


Aphrodisiakum

by kendrickcamps



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 02:48:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4162812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendrickcamps/pseuds/kendrickcamps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beca and Kommissar go on a double date with Chloe and Pieter after Worlds, things get awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aphrodisiakum

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I don't remember what my intentions were when I started writing this, but this is what happened. I am recently converted Becommissar trash (like 2 days after the movie came out), so don't mind me.  
> Possibly multichapter.

When Beca agreed to go on a “date” with Kommissar after their World Championships domination (which she considered nothing more than free dinner since she was _kind of_ in a relationship with Jesse), she had no idea it was going to be like this. They had both insisted on bringing a friend along to keep things from getting awkward. As if being around others kept their interactions from being awkward before. Kommissar had brought her right hand man and co-captain of Das Sound Machine: the freakishly large in stature Pieter. Beca, as she had done any other time, opted to bring Chloe out of all the other Bellas. She felt this was self explanatory, yet Fat Amy and Flo had still found some way to take offense to the fact that she refused to take either of them.

“Wie haben sie in diesem Restaurant zu bekommen? Sie kleiden sich wie die Amerikaner.” Pieter spoke in thick German across the table that the group had just been sat at, staring down the two American a cappella singers in their Bellas jackets and jeans. A smirk lingered on his lips, making Beca wonder whether she should have been offended or not. The giant, German goddess of a woman who co-ran Das Sound Machine, Kommissar (was that her _real_ name, though?), sat next to Beca with her arms crossed over her chest, shooting a look at her co-captain that could have only meant Beca had the right to be offended. “Warum habe ich von der rothaarige Mädchen sitzen?” he questioned, looking over at Chloe, who appeared to be completely unfazed by the possible insult she may have just received. As soon as the question left Pieter's mouth, Kommissar sent a hard kick into his shin, causing him to wince. “Sie riecht von Trockenfleisch vom Rind und Gummibärchen,” the large German man mumbled, rubbing his shin in pain.

“I apologize for Pieter, feisty maus and friend. He is, how you American kids say, butthurt.” Kommissar attempted to apologize for the behavior that Beca and Chloe didn't have the knowledge to understand. She placed an apologetic hand on Beca's thigh, eliciting a small gasp from the brunette Bella. She thought she had explicitly laid down her “no touching unless I touch you first” rule to the older woman when they had first interacted.

“Mein Hintern tut nicht weh!” Pieter attempted to defend himself to the tall blonde that sat across the table from him. Kommissar raised an eyebrow and reared her leg back once more. Before her boot could make contact with Pieter's leg again, he let out the most unmanly, un-German shriek Kommissar had ever heard.

“I am sorry, I am sorry!” Pieter waved his hands in front of him, trying his best to avoid being kicked by his counterpart. “I become very unhappy when I am hungry.” His accent was so thick that his statement almost sounded like something other than English. Chloe giggled at the way his “w” sounded like a “v” (as “w”s did in the German language). Beca smiled sheepishly, still wondering what he said. It had to have been something offensive if Kommissar was going to kick him twice for it. Beca looked over at her best friend who had begun folding a swan out of her cloth napkin, then down at the menu in front of her. Of course, with them being in Copenhagen, everything on the menu was in Danish. Why couldn't there have been pictures next to the meals for the stupid tourists that might have been there?

“Hey, um,” Beca nudged Kommissar, who was attempting to stare Pieter into submission, in the side with her elbow. A pair of piercing cobalt blue eyes met Beca's, sending a wave of God only knew what through her. All she knew was the she shouldn't have been feeling like this in public.

“Yes, feisty maus?” The words slid off of Kommissar's tongue like daggers into Beca's chest.

_God, her voice is deep. How is her voice so deep? Why is it so attractive? Why is she so attractive? Why do I feel like this? What the fuck is she doing to me? I just want to know what the fuck this menu says. Get your shit together, Mitchell. But her hand is still on my thigh. Fuck._ Beca's mind raced as Kommissar maintained eye contact with her.

“Do you need something?” Kommissar spoke once more. Beca blinked a couple times, realizing she was getting lost in the older woman's captivating, yet entirely intimidating gaze – the gaze she was likely attempting to control Pieter with.

“Um, can you read any of this?” Beca managed to get out, pointing at the foreign mess of words on the menu. Pieter had said she spoke eight different languages and Beca prayed one of those languages was Danish for the sake of her appetite.

“Ah, yes,” Kommissar responded with a toothy grin, grabbing the menu from in front of Beca. “Jeg taler og læser flydende dansk.” Beca stared blankly at the older woman. “I speak and read Danish fluently.” Was there _anything_ this woman couldn'tdo?

“What the hell does this say?” All Beca got from the menu using context clues was oysters, which she refused to order after what happened last time.

“Brændt makrel is roasted mackerel. You know, the fish,” Kommissar began, tracing small circles on Beca's thigh with her index finger. “Grønne asparges is asparagus. Ristet sesamolie is roasted sesame seed oil. It tastes very good on the fish.” She paused, slowly walking her fingers towards the pants seam on Beca's inner thigh. Beca didn't know why she was doing this to her, and of all places, in public. “And sort kardemomme is black cardamom. It is just the spice.” Beca nodded as she felt the older woman's fingertip running back and forth along the seam of her jeans. Although there were 6 more dishes under the section that had just been translated for her, her hunger and now sexual frustration made it hard for her to wait any longer.

“I think I'll have that. You make it sound so good.” Beca attempted to pause before embarrassing herself in front of the seemingly flawless woman she sat next to, but to no avail, she let herself slip. “You make anything sound good. You could tell me there was dog shit in this and I'd still eat it. Why? Because I will eat anything you read off of this menu.” Kommissar grinned, watching color fill Beca's cheeks. “God damn it!” Beca buried her head in her hands. She couldn't win, could she?

“Tiny maus, you are so frustrated. You need to relax.” Kommissar spoke in a tone that could have totally gotten Beca out of her pants in an instant had they not been in the middle of a foreign restaurant. “Do as they say in America and take a chill pill.” Beca sat up and glared at the German. She knew exactly what she was doing and the little cat and mouse game she was playing was not going to cut it, especially in the middle of a foreign restaurant.

“What are you having, Chlo?” Beca rerouted her attention to her best friend who sat across from her, trying to distract herself from the torture Kommissar was putting her through. Chloe was too busy playing with her napkin (which was now in the shape of a boat) to realize what was happening. “Chloe,” Beca spoke sharply. No response. Did she have to kick her in the shin like Kommissar did Pieter?

“Tiny maus friend,” Kommissar began, leaning across the small table and resting her free hand on Chloe's. Chloe ceased the motorboat noise she was making with her mouth and looked up. “What are you having?” Chloe couldn't pay attention to anything but how soft Kommissar's skin was.

“Your hands _are_ soft!” Chloe exclaimed, dropping her napkin on the table and petting the back of Kommissar's hand. Beca had never seen her best friend mesmerized more than she was at that moment. “Man, if I wasn't back with Aubrey, I –“ Chloe stopped mid sentence. “I see what you mean, Beca,” Chloe pulled her hands away from Kommissar and into her lap. Kommissar sat back in her chair and grinned in satisfaction. She knew how to get into _anyone's_ head and neither Beca nor Chloe knew how to feel about it. 

“What are you eating, Chloe?” Beca asked once more while she still had a fraction of her best friend's attention. Chloe looked down at the menu, bit her bottom lip, and shrugged.

“Why are there no pictures next to these? Do they think we're that smart?” Chloe sighed as she pushed her menu away from herself in defeat. “What are you having?”

“Um,” Beca began, pointing at the meal that Kommissar had translated for her, “I'm having this.” Chloe eyeballed the words that were not only foreign to her, but upside down, and scrunched her nose.

“I'll have that, too.” Chloe almost always ordered what Beca did (even if she didn't know what it was), so Chloe's response came as no surprise to Beca, but Beca had to at least _try_ to get her mind off of how close Kommissar was to killing her.

“Was möchtest du essen?” Kommissar directed her question at her comrade who had not spoken in a while out of fear of getting kicked again. Pieter looked up from his phone that he had been playing Candy Crush on to distract himself from offending the Americans he sat at the table with.

“Hmm?”

“Was möchtest du essen?” Kommissar repeated, her tone displaying impatience and reminding Beca of when she overheard her talking to DSM after their performance at the car show. She tapped on the menu with her index finger, tapping the same rhythm onto Beca's inner thigh with her other hand. “You say you are hungry.”

Pieter looked down at the menu, placing an index finger towards the top. “I know what I am getting,” Pieter spoke, his voice brimming with determination.

“Alright then. I say we order, ja?” Kommissar spoke as she began trying to flag down a waiter, her other hand remaining on Beca's leg.

“Ja!” Chloe exclaimed, attempting to answer Kommissar's rhetorical question in her best German accent. The two Germans chuckled and spoke softly to each other in their foreign tongue, which left Chloe completely unfazed yet again.

What seemed like forever to Beca had passed before a waiter finally arrived at their table. The short man was donned in a white button down, black slacks, and a white apron, not surprising Beca after seeing how formal their customers were dressed.

“Velkommen til Restaurant Kanalen. Kan jeg få dig drikkevarer?” The enthusiasm in the waiter's voice almost seemed to be forced, his exhaustion really showing through.

“Fire farvande og en øl,” Kommissar replied almost instantly, her tone sounding something familiar to the one that Aubrey used much too often during Bellas rehearsals Beca’s freshman year of college.

“Ved du, hvad du ønsker at spise?” The waiter figured he may as well ask if they were ready to order their food since she was so quick to respond. Kommissar looked at the rest of her party then gave the man a firm nod.

Beca’s mind raced as Kommissar placed her’s and Chloe’s orders. Why was she letting a foreign woman she had recently met get to her so much? Why was she feeling something she should have been feeling with her boyfriend of three years? Why was this happening? Why was she letting this happen?

“Pieter, what would you like to eat?” Kommissar spoke across the table.

“Øster. To plader.” The order left Pieter’s tongue effortlessly.

The waiter nodded his head and grinned sheepishly as he backed away from the table to place the order for their meals.

“Es ist ein Aphrodisiakum, ja?” Pieter asked once the waiter was out of earshot after ordering two plates of oysters. Kommissar chuckled, causing him to frown. “Was?”

“Why do you need an aphrodisiac, Pieter? You do know what an aphrodisiac does, ja?” Kommissar responded in a tone mixed with amusement and borderline curiosity.

Beca and Chloe stared at the large German man with raised brows.

“Die Austern sind für Sie,” Pieter spoke softly, a grin creeping across his face.

Kommissar’s jaw dropped at Pieter’s response. Although his gesture was very generous, she wasn’t sure she’d need an aphrodisiac to get her through the night.

 

 

Translations

 

“ _Wie haben sie in diesem Restaurant zu bekommen? Sie kleiden sich wie die Amerikaner.”_

“How did they get into this restaurant? They dress like Americans.”

“ _Warum habe ich von der rothaarige Mädchen sitzen?”_

“Why did I sit by the red-haired girl?”

“ _Sie riecht von Trockenfleisch vom Rind und Gummibärchen.”_

“She smells of beef jerky and gummy bears.”

 

“ _Mein Hintern tut nicht weh!”_

“My butt doesn't hurt!”

 

“ _Was möchtest du essen?”_

“What would you like to eat?”

 

“ _Velkommen til Restaurant Kanalen. Kan jeg få dig drikkevarer?”_

“Welcome to Restaurant Kanalen. Can I get you drinks?”

“ _Fire farvande og en øl.”_

“Four waters and a beer.”

 

“ _Es ist ein Aphrodisiakum, ja?”_

“It is an aphrodisiac, yes?”

“ _Die Austern sind für Sie.”_

“The oysters are for you.”

 

 


End file.
